R was here for another cleaning session. We're going slow but I really can't go much faster.
Today I let go of an old play stroller I've probably had since I was ....6? 10? It was rusted, green plastic body, discolored white plastic wheels, yellowed with age and dust, thin rusted metal push handle, plastic-like canvas in a greenish print on equally rusted metal accordion spines. It was far too small for any useful purpose, but I couldn't bear to throw it out. Finally got it in the donate pile and now I'm wishing i'd at least taken a picture before he took it with him. Still crying over it. And it's not like I even have any special memories attached to it. I used it to press little paths into my childhood bedroom carpet. I'd use the stroller to make a "sidewalk" and i'd "draw" grass on one side and a garden and the "house" would be my bet. My childhood bedroom had a thick carpet.
I don't remember who gave me that stroller and mom was thrilled when she saw that in the donation pile.
I don't know why this hurts so damn bad. Like I'm letting go of a childhood that I never really had. A dream of having a normal family? That stroller was just a childhood prop, a tool I used to build an imaginary world where I could feel safe and happy. As with most imaginary worlds it was as fragile as candy floss. But letting go still hurts. Like finally letting go of an old and cherished dream, a childhood dream that never had a chance of becoming real anyway.
Damn.
Letting go of other stuff wasn't nearly so hard. The stroller hurt. Even the Gigapet was easier, and some people might consider that a collector's item. Somewhere in here I have a Dinkie Penquin too. Not looking forward to giving that up, but how often would I really play it?
I could have replaced Giga Frog's batteries first. Sigh. Oh well.